Lady Umber
by Aslog
Summary: Sansa Stark/Greatjon Umber. One Shot. Inspired by A Sweet Poison by Emmiemac. Princess Sansa arrives at Last Hearth.


Authors Note: This story was inspired by **A Sweet Poison** byEmmiemac and I encourage you all to go and read it.

I own nothing and all rights go to George R.R Martin.

Lady Umber

There was a touch of snow in the air as the high gates of Last Hearth opened for their new mistress. Princess Sansa Stark urged her huge black destrier, who tossed his head and snorted angrily, through the massive gates and into the teaming courtyard.

She was several days late, and her arrival was unexpected, but even that did not account for the sudden stillness. Workmen and servants stopped and stared at the breathtaking beauty, sitting atop her mountainous house.

Her skin was as white as snow and in the grey courtyard, shone as luminous as the moon. Her hair was long enough to pool on the saddle, and as she gazed upon the stunned folk, her blue eyes burned like fire.

There would be talk in the kitchens that night of Princess Sansa, and the old women would bring up half-forgotten tales of dire wolves and Stark magic, and more than one man would wish he could be Lord Umber for a night.

One of her escorts, a burly man with a red face bellowed for someone to see to the horses, and that broke the spell of Princess Sansa, as stable boys rushed to take reins.

The princess was helped from her horse by an unusually tall soldier, and the horse pawed and rolled his eyes as she was taken down.

"Careful, lads," the red-faced man said as boys went to the horse, "that one kicks."

There was a pounding from the castle, and the doors to the hall burst open to reveal the immense form of Greatjon Umber, followed by his son Smalljon, and his uncles.

"You are most welcome here," Greatjon bellowed, opening his arms, "Last Hearth is pleased to welcome its new Lady."

"Thank you for your most kind welcome, Lord Umber," a rough face man steps forward, "I am Ser Rodrick, and I have been given leave to act in King Robbs absence regarding Princess Sansa."

"Aye," Lord Umber replied, stroking his greying beard, "Well come inside, no use freezing our bollocks off when we have ale and meat."

He offered his arm to the princess and ushered them inside.

Lord Greatjon Umber looked down upon the courtyard from the Maesters chamber, as the uncles clustered around him.

"About bloody time she got here," Mors said waspishly as the gates opened, "almost gave her up for dead."

"Might've wanted to be dead, then here," Hother remarked.

"Let's hope she takes after her Mother, a pretty Tully wench might inspire you to stay true to your Lady wife, heh Greatjon."

"Your wife did not mind me being untrue," Greatjon laughed, jiggling his genitals.

Mors turned to give another cutting remark, but then they gazed upon the Princess of Winter, who rode in the gates perched regally upon her horse like an eldritch goddess.

Greatjon Umber had seen many a beauty in his life but none compared to Princess Sansa Stark, not even her aunt Lyanna held a candle to her flaming beauty.

She held herself proud, like she was wearing a crown, even though she had nothing but her russet hair spilling about her in a halo of autumn. There was a look of awe on her face as she surveyed the castle, which gratified him. But it was also a reminder, just how young she was.

She was barely past her three and ten name-day.

Hother cleared his throat, "It's not our Lord we must worry about being true."

Mors barked a laugh at.

"Shut your bleeding mouth," Greatjon rasped, "And stop dithering about you lazy ingrates, we have guests and our future Lady."

With that, he turned and thundered down to great her.

Greatjon couldn't take her eyes off her, as she sat beside him nibbling daintily on a slice of bread. Ser Rodrick was explaining the details of their wedding in the Godswood, and there was much cheering and laughter from those assembled.

She had barely said a word this whole evening but answered courteously every time he spoke to her. Truthfully he pitied the girl, after being gifted back to the King in the North from King Renly, she had journeyed straight to Last Hearth, only pausing briefly at Winterfell to receive her orders from her King.

Princess Sansa was a good girl, despite the rumours that had come from Kings Landing. She had bowed her head and agreed to marry the old man her King had chosen.

By the Gods, she was different from his first wife. Whereas Ursula had been handsome and large with a sharp tongue, she had also had a realness about her. She was an unremarkable but essential part of Umber history. They would never sing songs about his first wife, and day by day, Ursula was just another scratched name within the Umber crypts.

Sansa already had songs sung about her. They told of her beauty as being beyond compare. There were songs of her bravery in the battle of Blackwater, as she guided a black horse while a Demonic Hound sat behind her and slashed such carnage that even in the midst of one of the most deadly battles, Sansa was unharmed.

The song was called the Stranger and the Maiden.

There were those that said the Hound was her lover, but Greatjon didn't believe it. There was an innocents about her and a pretty blush to her cheeks whenever Mors made a lewd comment. She as a virgin and he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pleasure at the thought of their bedding.

By the way, Smalljon was looking at her, it was sure that he was thinking about a bedding. He felt a spike of jealousy at the thought. He loved his son with all his heart, but he would beat him black and blue if he laid one hand on her.

He had always wanted a woman like Sansa, although he had come to admire and respect his first wife. There's had never been a happy marriage. He had always wanted a true Lady, instead of the tough women that were at Last Hearth.

Looking at Sansa, he had at last gotten the women he had always wanted, and he would fight to the death to keep her.


End file.
